


Bede Goes To Kalos To Find Out How To Yell At The Fae

by WolfStarmie



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Character Development, Fae & Fairies, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Illustrations, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22258360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfStarmie/pseuds/WolfStarmie
Summary: Ever since Fairy Bootcamp, Bede has been dealing with being cursed into a fairy type. Type advantage wise, its neat not getting hit by a dragon, but type disadvantage wise, Bede would prefer not dying because he ate spicy food or touched something made of metal. After a disastrous dinner with all the gym leaders, Bede ropes Milo into heading with him to Kalos to find out how to get rid of this curse.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 131





	1. The Princely Tailor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a sequel to my previous work, [Milo Turns Into an Eldegoss and Has a Rough Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21860710/chapters/52173946).

Time changes people. Bede knew this as a fact as he reminicised his first year as a gym leader, cleaning his apartment. Oh if only he could tell his past self how his life turned around. From distraught, sponsorship revoked child, desperate to get back on _that man’s_ good side, to Ballonea’s gym leader, content with everything.

Well, almost content.

The first day being challenged was mentally harrowing for Bede. He trained new pokemon to be at gym challenge level, so going into battle without the powerful pokemon he was used to was kind of scary. It didn’t help matters that he lost. He lost a few times. In between matches, while his pokemon were recovering and Bede was just in the locker room, he hid in a corner and phoned Milo.

“Milo I keep losing! I’ve only won one match today, am I fucking things up?”

Milo had chuckled on the other end.

“ _Oh Bede, that’s normal! Most gym challengers normally give up during a gym’s challenge, so if they get to you, it normally means they can win against you. Your purpose as a gym leader is to filter out the weaker trainers from those that are stronger. And hey, every trainer you meet is a trainer that has beaten me, Nessa, Kabu, and Bea, so losing to them isn’t a sign of anything bad. Trust me, I’d know._ ”  
“Right…” Bede had kinda forgot that Milo got the most thrashing, since he was the first gym leader.

“ _Oh, and while I got you on call, would you like to come over for dinner on saturday? You should be done with gym challengers by then. I still owe you for fixing up some of my shirts for me._ ”  
  
Bede looked at his growing collection of thread, all kept nicely in a plastic box. He wiped the top of the box with a damp cloth, trying to get rid of all the dust that collected on top despite its regular use.

The boy thought about his career path. It was certainly unique, Bede giving up on acting to pursue his blossoming passion for tailoring. Of course, why he got into tailoring in the first place wasn’t exactly orthodox.

Bede was probably the last person to admit it, but he was grateful for Opal taking him in when she did. He looked up to her as his mentor, and took her guidance to heart, picking up how to be a fairy trainer in both what was said and what wasn’t. One thing that stuck out about fairy type training, that Bede almost couldn’t believe, was the need for aesthetic. It sounded fucking stupid, trying to live your life like you were part of a fairy tale, but it was… almost an inevitable thing? At least, that's what Bede said as he got suckered into believing it. 

The problem was, Bede realised he was stagnating, and his pokemon, for some bullshitting reason, suffered because of it. He was treading the same ground Opal did, but without the same magic she had. Well duh, she was The Wizard. But then, Bede had to think. Who was he? He couldn’t always be The Wizard’s Apprentice, and from the way Opal acted in certain situations, she wanted him to break out of the role and find his own.

Which is why Bede had turned to research in the old library, looking over old books of fairy tales, reading and looking at the illustrations for inspiration. His eyes tend to stick around when it came to illustrations showing a prince charming, a dashing hero with a beautiful horse and the ability to win against all odds. Bede was pretty much that when he thought about it. He was at the very least, the hero for his friend Milo, he had a fucking horse he loved dearly and even though he dare not speak it, his past was a nightmare he had survived against. 

So one day, Bede tried to be prince charming, dressing himself based on one of the illustrations. He may as well have been competing for world’s saddest halloween costume. 

That's when he turned to needle and thread, even if Bede was afraid of pricking himself through his gloves with the metal needle he found in a repair kit. There was a godawful shirt with embroidered flowers on it. He tried to alter it, but annoyance made him take out scissors and just sliced until it remained as a capelet somewhat. It wasn’t that great, but he was proud of his work, proud enough to wear it over his gym shirt as he did his daily errands. Tansy liked it, the convenience store clerk complementing it when Bede purchased his usual food items, and Bede fueled himself with her words to continue.

Bede started to actually learn how to sew because of it, at first just fixing some broken clothing, learning how to do different stitches and learning how to not die in agonising pain from pricking yourself. He patched costumes for the theater, and it snowballed to where he practically spent rehearsals just making costumes for the actors instead, Opal giving him advice on what fabrics to use and what not.

It was then he ended up referring himself as being a tailor. He wasn’t at the point where he would dare _make_ anything for anyone that wasn’t intended for theater, but fixing and altering clothing? He’d do it, and he started to get the proper equipment to do it with too. 

That’s when the league’s marketing division approached Bede. It was simple, they would arrange for photoshoots and interviews, showing off Bede’s new princely demeanor and newfound tailoring skills, and Galar would know him as “The princely tailor.”

Bede was rather fond with how his rare card came out. His standard was very boring, like other gym leaders, he just stood in his stadium with the lights on, making a strange shimmering pattern behind him, but his rare card had him on the back of his rapidash, in front of a backdrop of Ballonea’s glowing mushrooms. 

Of course, Bede’s fanbase, from that _one time_ he snuck into the Champion Cup’s finals, loved what he had done with himself.

Bede runs the damp cloth over his small bookshelf, and he finds _that_ magazine. The Galar You, a popular tabloid, put Bede on the front cover on one of their issues.

“‘Galar’s Newest Heartthrob’?” Bede had said as he picked up the magazine from the magazine rack in the convenience store. His beautiful eyes focused on the letters, his demeanor calm and his beautiful face serene as he reacted to the headline. Perhaps he truly was Prince Charming.

“Who the _fuck_ thinks I’m a fucking heartthrob? Is this some kinda fucking piss taking joke? Fucking hell what’s wrong with people?”

...If Prince Charming had a mouth that would put sailors to shame and would get into fist fights far too regularly. 

Once Bede was done cleaning, he went back to that awful magazine in his bookshelf, and phoned Milo. 

Milo chuckled when Bede explained why he was calling.

“ _Oh deary me, you’re still hung up about it? C’mon, there’s nothing to be upset about, it just means some people like you_ .”  
“Yeah, but… _heartthrob?_ It still sounds like they just decided to take the piss.”  
“ _Oh don’t be so negative. It’s just a harmless magazine. People like you. You’re nice looking, you’re friendly-”_  
“Oh we both know that’s a fucking lie,”  
“ _-You’re nice looking… Okay now I can’t really come up with ways to describe you._ ”  
“Wow thanks Milo, true friend material here.”  
“ _Hey give me a break, you’re an acquired taste._ ”  
“You’re calling me fucking asparagus?”

“ _In a way… look, you’ve got a certain charm to you, alright?_ ” He snorts, “ _You’re probably the first person to complain about being called attractive in a magazine. By the way, did you get Raihan’s invite?”_ _  
_“For ‘heart emoji pokeball emoji fist emoji frowny face emoji Gym Leader Squad Dinner check emoji check emoji ok hand emoji heart emoji’?”

“ _Gnfff yup_ .”  
“I’m not sure if I’m considered a ladythot or a gentlefuckboy, but I got it.”  
“ _Great. Do you need any help with your allergies?”_

“Oh don’t worry I’ve got it under control.”


	2. Never Order The Fucking Magikarp

What Bede had under his control was a unique situation he refers to as ‘Bullshit’. This was an abbreviation, short for “fucking bullshit fairies cursed me to be a bullshitting fairy type.” It was exactly what was on the tin, Bede was a fairy type, after a strange situation during Opal’s fairy bootcamp hell in which Opal made Bede bow to tree stumps under a floating glowing orb that looked like the moon, only to wake up on the floor of his apartment the next morning, covered in a sheen of sweat and the smell of heavily floral perfume. 

Bede then found he could pull infinite amounts of ribbon from his right sleeve, and he got allergic reactions to metal and poisons. Bede feared steel types and poison types after that, and would always be seen wearing gloves to not risk triggering allergic reactions. Especially since antihistamine tablets were wrapped in metal foil like a cruel joke, and an epipen had a metal needle as if to mock Bede’s condition.

However, Bede also resisted the same types fairy types did. It was pretty cool being able to survive his mawile, Macarena biting on his leg, not getting hurt at all from the malicious little shit. However, there was one situation that made it absolutely annoying.

Bede didn’t get a second out of the corviknight taxi before he gets a flygon in his face, Raihan on its tail.

“Marty McFlygon! Breaking swipe!”   
Bede frowned as the flygon tried to hit him, the dragon’s tail instead bouncing off Bede as if it had no force behind the attack. The flygon beeped in fear, knowing the fact that his attack failed was a  _ very _ bad sign for the sand dragon, and flew to hide behind Raihan.

“Hello Raihan.” Bede said, trying not to sound annoyed.

“Yo, Baeds, you  _ gotta _ teach me how ta tank hits like that! Marty always sends me mcflyin’ whenever he uses breaking swipe on me.”   
“For the last time, Raihan, I’m not doing anything, your dragons just aren’t pricks to people that aren’t you.”

God. Raihan had discovered Bede’s dragon type immunity by accident during the champion’s cup. His turtonator had missed an attack, and tried to use dragon pulse on Bede in frustration. Raihan and Bede had both been appropriately shit scared, Bede cowering from the blast, but the beam of energy just felt like mildly warm air to the fairy type trainer.    
After the match, Raihan had begged Bede to teach him how to do that, but Bede denied anything ever happening. Raihan believe Bede for 0 seconds.

“Aw c’mon, I know you got a secret. What do you want in exchange? I can shout out your Chatter and Instarotom accounts? I can pay you?? Please Baeds, I’m  _ dyin’ _ ta know!”   
Bede tried his best to summon the idea of an image tinted red, of eyes glowering in disapproval.    
“Then perish.” He puts his hands on his hips. “Are you just here to harass me Raihan? I thought we were having dinner.”   
Raihan snaps his fingers. “Oh don’ worry, we got the finest table at the Captain’s...Table. Huh. Shoulda said we got the Captain’s Table itself. Well anyway, I got the most lit table there, I’m just making sure nobody gets lost.”   
“Well, I wouldn’t say Hulbury is a labyrinth, especially since there's a sign pointing to the restuarant from here, but I’ll see you inside Raihan.”   
  
Inside, Bede was greeted by Milo, Nessa and Kabu.   
“Jeez, you three are early to every event, do you guys just get here three hours in advance or something?”   
“Well I live here so-”   
“Yes”   
“Well I like the jog here from Motostoke-”   
Nessa and Kabu turned to Milo.   
“You got here three hours early?”

Milo blushed and looked away. “I, maybe. Look there wasn’t as much work today and I thought I’d just head to Hulbury and entertain myself before heading here. That’s all.”

The other two laughed and Kabu gave Milo a pat on the shoulder. Milo then approaches Bede and gave the curly haired boy a hug.

“How’ve you been?” Milo asks.

“Good, good, trainings good. I see you’ve decided to be an eldegoss tonight?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

The way Bede and Milo became friends was a harrowing experience in which Milo became an eldegoss and Bede and Marnie helped him get back to being human. He didn’t mention the story to anyone after the fact, mostly because everyone didn’t believe Milo at all, but still thought about the experience a lot. The farmer did have some sense of humour to him, and eventually ended up purchasing a cloak and a sun hat that had the appearance of an eldegoss. He wore the two items with pride to the occasional fancy do, and Bede and Marnie could share a knowing smirk with Milo about the memories his outfit evoked.

Everyone takes their seat and talk for a bit, some casual talk about pokemon training as the remaining major division leaders filtered in. It was the usual affair, so Bede couldn’t help but let his eyes wander.

Raihan was not wrong, the table he chose was very good. The view of the window showed Hulbury’s pier, as the sea shimmered in the sun’s last glowing rays. The table, a solid wood beast, was covered in a silky cotton cloth. Everyone’s seat had a small plate and an army of cutlery. Bede squinted. His sworn nemesis… apart from spicy food, pricking himself, slipping in mud, leaks in the roof, Macarena biting him, finding cool trainer gloves that don’t have a left handed option, sun flashing in his eyes after getting used to Ballonea’s dim lights and that bitch Tiffany from accounting. On every plate was a serviette folded into an oyster shape, and at the middle of the table was a candle. Not that it was needed, given the fancy ass chandelier above the table and the wall lights nearby.

The gym leaders were given menus, and some time to talk. Bede found himself conversationally partnered up with Marnie.

“Hey Bede.”   
“Oh, hi Marnie.”   
“I like your outfit.”   
“Thanks. Yours is nice too but uh…” Bede glanced down at the row of metal studs on her jacket’s cuffs,” yeah don’t touch me.”   
Marnie snorted. “Oh don’t worry I won’t. Though, speaking of that, how are you? Isn’t it hard to be a tailor with everything being made of metal?”   
Bede shakes his head, “oh no, luckily there are alternatives. Ceramic scissors, porcelain thimbles, and bone pins and needles.”   
“Bones? You mean like actual bones?”   
“Yup. They’re designed for those that work with fairy types. I just wish they weren’t so fuck expensive.”   
“Wait, so like, what bones do they use?”   
“I have no clue what bones-”

“Ya guys talking ‘bout boning?” Raihan said, creeping in on the conversation. He leaned in, ignoring Marnie’s fluster and Bede’s death glare.    
“Isn’t it a bit early in the evening to be talking about  _ that _ ?”   
“What are you talking about?” Bede asked, vaguely knowing where this was going and not liking it.

“Y’know, horizontal tango, the dirty, making like Ikea furniture and inserting a peg into a hole.”   
It took all of Bede’s self control to not go full ‘poor orphan kid’ and slam a plate into Raihan’s head. His face turned scarlet, which seemed to delight the dragon tamer.

“Not that I’m judging, anyone can be the peg or the hole these days, and I mean, 69 is a popular number for a-”

“Raihan if you don’t shut up right now I’m going to fucking shove a fork up your arse.” Bede said, picking up one of the forks with a gloved hand.

The threat seemed to make Marnie and Raihan react strongly.    
“Bede its ok,” Marnie said, trying to get Bede to let go of the fork. Raihan backed away, his hands raised as a sign of peace. “Woah, chill dude. I’m just tryin’ ta be funny, sheesh.”   
Milo, sensing hostility from the fae, paused his conversation with Nessa to see what was going on. 

“Hey what’s up?”   
Raihan shook his head. “It’s nothing Miles, just a miscommunication.”   


Milo turned to Bede. “You alright?”   
Bede huffed. “Yeah.”   
  
Raihan clapped his hands together, trying to leave the awkward conversation behind him. “Great! How ‘bout we get the waiter over here and order some grub.”   
The rest of the table agreed, and Marnie and Milo glanced at Bede.   
“Are you sure you’re alright? We can step outside for some air if you need.”   
“I’m fine Milo.” He was not fine Milo. He had a scowl on his eyes and a sulk on his mouth.

“Well uh…” Milo gently stopped Marnie.

“Give him time.”   
“Alright…”   
  
The two drifted into different conversations, leaving Bede alone. This was fine by him, he could use the silence.   
  
Raihan called over the waiter, and now they had to order.

“Give me a basculin soup.”   
“I want the grapploct calamari!"

“Spicy corphish for me.”   
“I’ll also have spicy corphish.”   
“Oh dear, ye have tempted me. I’ll get a spicy corphish too.”   
“Just because you are all getting the spicy corphish I’ll get the palpitoad legs.”   
“Oh I change my mind, make my basculin soup a spicy corphish too!”   
“I suppose I should get a spicy corphish too…”   
The table turned to Bede. He was the last to order. Bede wanted to just say ‘yeah sure whatever, give me what everyone else is having,’ but unless Bede wanted to die, he couldn’t. Bede learned the hard way that most spices counted as poison typed to his fragile fae body, him spending an afternoon in the emergency room after eating some spicy liechi crisps. 

“I’ll uh…” he lifts the menu so it covered his face, and chose the first thing that didn’t look like like he’d be allergic to.

“I’ll get a magikarp fillet.”   
The waiter collected the menus, and Bea gave Bede a thumbs up. “Welcome to the not corphish gang, Bede”   
Be looked to Marnie, the third member, and raised an unsure grin.   
“Thanks, it’s great not eating corphish.” Or dying from anaphylactic shock. 

Conversation continued, and Bede was busy focusing on doing something important. He needed to slowly remove cutlery from in front of him, and dump it on the floor, and then replace it with his metal looking plastic cutlery.

However, there was a problem:   
This fancy ass restuarant has too much fucking cutlery. They had dinner knives, fish knives, butter knives, salad knives and a dessert knife, and the only thing Bede had to replace it was  _ knife _ . It wasn’t even a good knife. It cut by making food underneath it  _ feel _ bad and breaking under it.

Hopefully he wouldn’t need to use it. He replaced the dinner knife with his own, and set to work replacing one of the forks and spoons. Of course, Bede couldn’t just throw all of the cutlery on the floor, since it’d just draw attention to his plate and why he didn’t have all the cutlery compared to everyone else, so he’d have to keep the rest there. Looking at his handiwork after he was finished, Bede grimaced at how much of a trap it looked like. He could only eat with his gloves off, so when he took them off, he’d need to delicately pick up his cutlery without accidentally touching the others. Easier said than done.

Everyone got their spicy corphish, Bea got her grapploct calamari, Marnie got her palpitoad legs and Bede fucked up. Bede fucked up  _ royally _ .

Magikarp fillets were unique to other fillets in that the tough meat was cooked with the tough outer scales on. Bede took off his gloves and gently prodded the white meat with the knife.

The fish finally found something it could overpower, a real shame it only found it after it had died and was a delicious meal. Bede tried to cut the meat, but Bede may as well have asked the fish to cut itself. Okay. This is fine. 

He’ll just use the fucking fork.

He tries to stab the fork into the fillet, but it acts like nothing happened. Okay then, he just needs a bit more force. Just wiggle it in there and it fucking snapped. At least, only one tooth did. It was embedded in the meat, with no intention of leaving. This is fine. He's got three teeth left on the fork, he can do this. He wiggles the fork, trying to not make it snap in the meat like the first, and instead it shatters into three different pieces. One in the fish, one in his hand, and one that was sent flying into the candle. The long stick toppled over, and set the tablecloth alight instantly. At this point everyone realised ‘Oh shit oh fuck fire’ and stood up to be away from the flames.    
“I’ll stop it!” Nessa said, as she took out her drednaw from her pokeball and pointed at the spreading fire. The tortoise needed no further prompting to shoot a hydro pump from its mouth, defeating the water and just so happen to drench Bede as well.    
  
This is fine, Bede thought as wet hair covered his eyes. He sighed and stood up, placing his hands-

“ **SHIT FUCK** ”   
-on the metal cutlery and quickly pulled his hands back. He walks backwards away from the cutlery, and walks into his chair. He loses balance and he and the chair topple backwards onto the floor, and he must have stepped onto the metal fork he put on the ground because that suddenly went flying towards Bea, who punched it upwards away from her face and right into the chandelier. 

There was an intense silence from everyone as they watched the ceiling decoration sway in a concerning manner.

It stopped after a bit, the crystals halting their clatter.

  
  
And  _ then _ it fell.

There was an explosion of crystal shards in all directions, as an unholy cacophony of shattering crystals filled the air. It was as this point the owner rushed over to see what had happened, and everyone could see in his mind as he debating apologising to the gym leaders, or selling their organs to pay for damages.

Or at least, Bede could. He had forgotten until this moment that he could read minds if he focused.    
This divine rage that had washed over him now, drenched in water, hands in agony, feeling utter embarrassment as everyone stared at him on the floor, was probably the most focused he had ever been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That awkward moment when you want to use Jesus Christ as a curse but he doesn't exist in pokemon canon so you have to replace it with something more generic.


	3. The Mission

A few days after the disastrous dinner, Bede arrives in Turffield. The ruins of an ancient era stood tall in the early morning sun, as wooloo bleated, trees rustled, and people bustled with their harvests. Bede hadn’t actually been in Turffield during this time of the year, and was getting to see it in a new light, watching people and pokemon work together to cut wheat, pick fruits and remove the fur off of wooloo. It was like clockwork, watching them the work being done. It made Bede think.

No matter how much things had changed for Bede, his job, his situation, his purpose, things stay the same exactly the same in the farming town.    
  
It  _ still _ smells like shit!

One thing that was different, that Bede tried to remember on the odd occasion he visited, was the smooth paved footpaths that wrapped themselves around Turffield where the main roads weren’t quick enough. Milo had fixed them. Well, he was the one that got people and pokemon involved to change the footpaths from a sad, treacherous muddy fate, to these nice stoney versions. They still tracked dirt, this was Turffield after all, but they were a lot easier to traverse through.

The boy was carrying a small suitcase with him, as he beelined for a certain gym leader’s cottage.

“Bede, why are you here? You normally call first,” Milo said, inviting Bede in. He had just returned home from a morning workout, and his hair was still wet from the shower he left. 

Bede said nothing as he walked over to the farmer’s dinner table and dramatically plopped his suitcase on it.

“I’m going to Kalos.” He stated.

Milo looked at him blankly. And then he pieced it together. 

“Is this because of the dinn-”   
“It’s not because of the dinner.”   
  
Milo didn’t believe Bede at all, his eyebrows knitted in concern as he approached the fairy type trainer.

“Don’t you think this is a bit extreme? Fleeing the country over one bad dinner?”

“I’m not fleeing the country. That’s why I’ve come here.” Bede pulled out two pieces of paper. Ferry tickets. “I want you to come with me. I need to find a way to get rid of my fucking curse.”

“Why Kalos though? Wouldn’t Opal know how to fix this?”   
“Opal ignores me when I try to bring it up. I’m sure she knows but doesn’t want to help me. And well, I figured the best place to go for answers is Kalos. There’s more fairy type trainers there than here, and they also have a fairy type gym leader, so if anyone’d know, it’d be her.”   
  
Bede looks at Milo imploringly, and the gloved hand holding out the tickets out to the farmer faltered. “Look, if you don’t want to come along, that’s fine, I understand. I just. I just can’t live like this anymore, alright? And the only people who know about my curse is you and Marnie, and I don’t think I’m in any position to ask her to help me.”

Milo looks at Bede, a defeated look of concern on his face. 

“I’ll uh… I’ll have to see what I can do. This is very sudden Bede, everyone’s busy with harvests and all, and I have to help out as well. When is the ferry anyway?” He takes one of the tickets, relieved to see the date of the ferry is tomorrow instead of that day.

He glances back up.

“Well, I suppose I can… let some people know I won't be in town for a little while…”   
  
Bede lights up. “You’ll come?”   
Milo sighs and smiles. “Yeah, of course. We’re friends after all.”

Milo had got used to Bede’s odd habits, the fairy trainer, knowingly or not, acted like a fairy in some cases. Bede had a great dislike for altruism, getting uncomfortable at people being nice to him out of the kindness of their hearts. Maybe it was some kind of fairy instinct, not wanting to be in debt. It was odd, in that Milo had to phrase things in a certain way, else Bede would refuse. He didn’t accept invitations for family dinners, unless Milo made it sound like Bede coming over was either for Bede to help them, or that the o’ Yarrows were somehow profiting from the venture in ways that wasn’t just having the curly haired boy over. Perhaps the excuse would be needing to dispose of extra food, or getting rid of junk that Bede happened to need for his apartment, or trick Bede into doing work.

In reality, the o’ Yarrows loved having Bede over. Bede wouldn’t imagine it possible, but he was actually fun to be around. He told stories of theatre, of stories about stories and about the disasters that happened during his time in the ballonea theater. Other times, he was a good listener, and although his advice wasn’t too great, he always remembered the gossip Ma o’ Yarrow told him, or the remarks Pa o’ Yarrow had about people in the community, and even though Lambert’s talking tended to confuse Bede, he always did his best to try understand Milo’s teen brother.

But still, Milo wasn’t sure Bede understood what being friends truly meant, and how it should transcend the logic of being debt to someone. Maybe that’s why Bede couldn’t ask Marnie with this, since he logically couldn’t see her helping him when he was the one in debt to her. A frown starts to slip down Bede’s face, and Milo reluctantly adds something to his last statement.    
“...And I owe you for taking care of that potted plant I gave you.”   
  
It was a gift for the boy’s apartment, specifically grown for Bede, to be able to survive in sunless ballonea. But in order for Milo to get Bede to accept it, Milo had to say the plant was taking up space, and he couldn’t throw it away.

Bede’s frown disappeared. “Well, great. Pack your bags tonight ‘cause we gotta get to Whitecliff early tomorrow.”   
  
Milo smiled. “Sounds good to me. Do you want to help me with some gardening stuff since you’re here?”


	4. Peeking Over The Mind Garden Wall

The two worked in Milo’s garden for a bit. The garden was a little slice of heaven, large enough to contain all of Milo’s pokemon and a fine collection of plants, all kept safe from the outside world by a stone wall and a strong mesh ceiling. 

Bede watched one of Milo’s eldegoss… uh… fuggin… Primrose? Pretty sure it was Primrose, play with a small cottonee. The cottonee seemed new to Milo’s garden, and Bede couldn't recall where one could catch it easily without spending days in a wild area hoping for the right weather.    
  
The curly haired boy dumps more soil into the pots he was handed, and glanced over at Milo.

The man was busy doing creepy ass plant frankenstein bullshit, comparing a lot of saplings before cutting two in half, and then taping the two cut halves onto the other plant’s base. Apparently, shouting ‘Milo what the fuck you murdered them’ was inappropriate, and that this was just grafting. Bede did not believe taping two plants together would work, and that he was waiting for the frankensteined plants to perish like the unholy abomination they were.

Also, Bede was kinda feeling mischievous. He had nothing better going on right now other than caking his fingers in soil, sooooo….   
  
Milo wouldn’t mind if Bede read his mind, right? It’s just for practice. He doesn’t have to  _ know _ .

Bede takes a deep breath and tries to focus. All psychic trainers ended up picking up some form of psychic bullshit, dealing with their pokemon for too long. Bede had developed the ability to read human minds. Of course, he wasn’t very good at it. It was at its peak when Bede had one of his psychic pokemon help him, or if he was suffering a lot in his head, but still, if he focused, he could pick what someone was thinking.

Milo was very busy in his head. For one thing, Bede was throwing a spanner into his plans, and how long  _ were _ they going to spend in Kalos? Surely Bede can’t disappear for too long without someone in Ballonea complaining.    
  
Milo had his shepherding duties, his garden, his pokemon to train, the trainers at the gym he helped train, as well as hold basic training classes for anyone interested, he was helping his brother with his attempts to learn ancient Galarian and also his weird pokemon training he was stubborn about doing, and lastly there was also the harvests, since Milo was the go to guy when a spare hand was needed. Plus if he was leaving for Kalos, he should send some of his pokemon to Deirdre for her to take care of, especially since Prima was now very fascinated in raising his own child-   
  
“Prima!  _ That’s _ his name!”   


Milo turned around to look at Bede. “Wha? What about Prima?”   
Bede paled, and sheepishly looked away. “Oh, I uh, I was trying to recall what your eldegoss was called, that’s all.”   
Milo squinted. “That’s strange, I just happened to think about him when you shouted his name out.”   
Bede’s face turns red. “Oh, uh, m-maybe I fuggin uh, was thinking too hard I accidentally picked up your thoughts?” He gives Milo a weak smile as he lied.   
  
Milo’s expression softened. “Well, be careful with yer mind reading, you don’t want to accidentally pick up someone’s dirty thoughts or something.”   
“Oh god don’t even imply that.”   
Milo lets out a weak ‘ha’. “Well, you know how some people are.” And he goes back to his work.

Bede focused on the pots, trying to not listen in on Milo. Whenever someone brings up dirty thoughts, you ended up thinking of your own sickest fantasies and realities. Right now, Bede was trying hard to dismiss his really awkward time back when he did the gym challenge. He had just arrived in Hammerlocke, checked into the inn, and found himself with the remaining gym challengers. They were having drinks, and Bede, being curious about alcohol, joined them. One thing lead to another and he and one other challenger went into the same room. She was a redhead, very pretty for someone with a bloody mop for a head, and the only thing he recalls about her identity was her shirt that had 155 on it… and it was on the floor.

Anyway he didn’t want to relive what happened. 

God, could you imagine how  _ dirty _ Milo could be in his own head? Bede already knew too much about the farmer, his… “fondness” for women with wide hips, but he didn’t want to know anymore than that.

**…**

Except now morbid curiosity took over and now he  _ did _ want to know what Milo was thinking.

(Un(?))Fortunately, Milo wasn’t thinking anything dirty, and was thinking about Deirdre again. Unless the train of thought went from dirty thoughts to lady friend thoughts, in that case Bede missed it.

Anyway, Milo had long since debated going out with the cotton farmer, but had normally stopped when he thought about the fact that his Ma theorised he’d marry her one day. It was out of spite he didn’t want to possibly prove her right, as anyone tends to do when given a prediction that was both completely rude and uncalled for, and very  _ very _ accurate.

But after one particularly bad snow storm, Milo felt himself longing for some romantic intimacy to stoke some warmth in his heart.

Which is why it took him several months to gather the courage needed to ask Deirdre out for lunch. They went to Milo’s favourite cafe, and even now Milo stressed about how it went and what it said about their futures together. He compared his situation to that of two puzzle pieces. Did they fit? Did the picture line up? It felt like it was possible, that sometimes pieces looked like they didn’t fit, and the picture looked wrong only because of how the artwork was cut, but at the same time, the opposite could also be a reality.

And of course, Deirdre gifted Milo with a cottonee. It was one of the cottonee his eldegoss was the father of. Milo wondered if this was to mean something about their own relationship. Perhaps Deridre was shy to express her feelings, instead hoping the gift of a pokemon would be a strong enough indicator to something more? But then again, Milo had mentioned to her that he wanted to see if whimsicott would be a good fit for his team, and Prima seemed delighted in meeting his son, so perhaps he was overthinking this as well as their one date?  _ Unless _ he was  _ under _ overthinking, not seeing the deep affection between pokemon to mean the potential affection between farmers? Or maybe he was overoverthinking, because this was the kind of thing Bede’d remark with ‘That’s fucking stupid’. But what if he was  _ under _ overoverthinking the more overt implications?? In ancient times, early man would form romantic relations to usher in a new generation, and well, was the cottonee supposed to be meaning something like that???

And yet, something tells him he was probably overoveroverthinking this all a smidge.

How’s Bede doing with those pots he’s been quiet.

Milo turns around to see Bede staring at the middle distance, eating soil out of a pot like popcorn.

“Bede why are you eating soil?”

Bede pauses, realising what was in his mouth, and started to spit it out.   
  
“No gross don’t spit it out! Don’t mix your half eaten soil with what’s in the pots!”


	5. Bon Voyage

Even after washing his mouth out a few times, even buying a bottle of cold drink to try drown it out with sweetness, Bede could still taste dirt. He didn’t admit _why_ he was eating soil to Milo, because it would mean admitting he was listening in on Milo’s thoughts, and found the farmer stressing over the hidden symbolism of a cottonee very entertaining.

Bede was probably the only person who knew just how similar the two o’ Yarrow brothers were. While Lambert rambled out loud, Milo rambled in his head, both of them rambling about the stupidest things. 

Milo had to deal with some administration concerns given he would be leaving tomorrow with Bede without much notice, so Bede was free to wander around Turffield. Bede already took care of what he needed to do, he finished the only tailor job he had for Mrs Mauz, told everyone at the gym/theater that he’d be gone, and headed to Turffield. Very easy. 

Bede stops his walking when he hears something that was _maybe_ singing. It was very guttural, making noises indescribable to those that only understood Galarish. Bede looks around, and sees that Lambert was shepherding, the wooloo gathered to hear him sing.

“Oi Lambert, are you singing or do you need a throat lozenge?” Bede called out as he approached the younger o’ Yarrow sibling. 

Lambert stops his song and waves to Bede. Immediately, the wooloo wander off to do something else. “Hiya cousin Beetroot!”

“ _Ugh_ .” Lambert, for some reason, started to call Bede Beetroot. He had no idea why, and hearing Lambert explain while keeping the teenager on track just hurt Bede’s head. “What are you doing? What was that… ‘song’?”  
  
Lambert leans on his shepherds crook. “Oh, you see, I’ve picked up learning ancient Galarian ‘cause I want to be able to read what’s on the ancient ruins here ‘n there, but I’m not really good at it, so I’ve been trying to learn through singing.”  
“Oh, well, what were you singing?” Probably some old wooloo lullaby passed down from generations of shepherds.

“The recipe for stew.”  
“What?”

Lambert takes out a piece of paper, where he had written the family’s recipe for stew, and translated it into ancient Galarian.

“Why are you singing a recipe for stew?”  
“Oh well that’s a funny story. You see, I’m trying to discover what my passions are, cause I can’t just be a shepherd, and well, Milo’s a gym leader so I asked him about it and he suggested I talk to some of the folks around town and so I talked to Denver about his boring ol’ historical stuff ‘n the geoglyph, and he mentioned that most documents before the 1500’s cannot be read unless you knew ancient Galarian, so I figured oh does that include the writing on the ruins and Denver said-”

  
“This has nothing to do with why you’re singing a recipe for stew.”  
“Oh! It’s cause I’m a honey type trainer.”  
“...and that’s relevant?” The fuck is a honey type trainer?  
“Yeah! Cause I’m training this combee and cutiefly I caught to gather honey really fast, and I figured if I sing for them about food they’ll get hungry and make honey quicker that way.” 

Bede looks around.

“I don’t see your pokemon…?”  
“Oh it’s because I’m on duty right now and I’m practicing my ancient Galarian instead.”  
  
Bede had to blink a few times, as he was sure this conversation would loop, if he asked again why Lambert was singing about stew in ancient Galarian.

“So… you’re practicing your ancient Galarian, by singing about stew, and you’re singing about stew to make your pokemon make honey faster, but you’re not singing to your bees because right now you’re just practicing your ancient Galarian?”

“No…”  
“No?” Bede’s head hurt.

“Yes.”  
“Yes? As in I got it wrong?”  
“No…”  
“Then what is it?”  
“Yes.”  
  
Bede stopped. Bede kept on forgetting how Lambert was a case of advanced stupidity, which may be a health risk for the fairy type trainer’s head. To save himself, Bede walked away.  
  
“Bye cousin Beetroot!”

Bede spent the night at the o’ Yarrows place, and in the morning, he and Milo headed to Whitecliff for the ferry.  
In a plot twist that nobody saw coming, the town was named after the large white cliffs that surrounded the coastal town. Signs peppered the place with both Galarian and Kalosian text, guiding people around to where they want to go.

The ferry would be an hour long, and the two would arrive in Coumarine town. The problem was that there was no air travel options for people without paying an outrageous cost for a rental pokemon, and both trainers lacked a pokemon capable of using fly. So, in order to go to Laverre town, Bede’s best bet for fairy knowledge, they’d need to walk through Lumiose to Laverre.

The ferry arrives, and the two board, and now, all they could do was look out at the sea.

The Galarish channel was a stretch of sea that spanned between Kalos and Galar, and it was well known that pokemon refused to swim in large parts of the water, and not even magikarp would live here.

A tour guide that Bede and Milo eavesdropped, explained it best.

“Now, the interesting thing is that no pokemon swim on the routes used for ferries, and that’s because eons ago, there used to be land that bridged the gap between Galar and Kalos. It was during the Great War that Kalosians managed to sink the land, killing an unimaginable amount of Galarians, human and pokemon. That is why no pokemon swim in the Galarian channel, and is why very few people set foot in its waters: The lost souls make it feel unwelcome.”

Bede tugged up the collar of his capelet at the story.

“Dear lord. That’s fucking creepy. What was that about a great war?” He turned to Milo.

Milo glanced at Bede curiously, resting himself against the rail of the ferry. “You don’t know about the Great War? It’s something everyone learns in school.”

Bede poked his own chest, staring at Milo. “Poor orphan, remember? Wasn’t much of a school for us and I wasn’t a nerd who read about history in the library.”

“Oh. Right. Well uh, all you need to know is that Kalos and Galar went to war 3000 years ago. That’s why there’s a silent rivalry between Galarians and Kalosians.”  
“Huh. I thought the rivalry thing was because Kalosian is a stupid sounding language.”  
  
Milo chuckles. “I mean, I barely remember any from school. I mostly remember upsetting the teacher with my pronunciation”

Bede looks at Milo, his eyes wide in ‘Oh fuck’.

“What’s the matter Bede?”  
“You don’t know Kalosian?”  
“Not really no.”  
“...Milo… I was hoping you knew Kalosian so you could do the whole translation thing.”  
“Wait Bede you don’t know Kalosian?”  
“No! That’s why I wanted you along because I thought you spoke it!”  
“I thought the reason you wanted to go to Kalos was because you knew Kalosian!”  
  
The two looked at each other.  
  
“So in other news, we’re fucked?”  
“ _Oh we’re so fucked.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //Gently smears my headcanon on where AZ aimed his giant pokemon soul powered laser nuke into here and the repercussions.


	6. To Coumarine

The two spent the rest of the ferry ride in awkward, mildly annoyed silence, not at all excited needing to face the concept of getting to Kalos with no way of speaking the language. They didn’t even manage to get off the ferry when Kalosian started to get thrown at them.

“Bonjour! Bienvenue en Kalos!” A woman called to the ferry as it crept into the docks. Bede and Milo stepped off the ferry, the curly haired boy’s head buried deep in his capelet’s collar, and the farmer was not pleased.

Coumarine was an interesting city, in that half of it was a port town, filled with hotels, market stalls and of course the docks, and the other half was connected to this half by a monorail. That half was more or less just houses and the local gym, who, according to the interactive map Bede had loaded onto his rotom phone, was a grass type trainer named Ramos. Huh. Maybe Milo would want to quickly nip into the gym and meet the old coot.

“So, good news, the map doesn’t suddenly turn Kalosian, so we can at least use this. To get to Lumiose, we need to take the monorail up to the other half of this city, and then we need to head down the route…” He trailed off as he looked up from the screen. He looks around the busyish street, and realises that he lost Milo already.

“Oh for fuck sake!”

Milo had a perfectly valid reason why he wandered away from Bede: He found a stray skiddo. It had a collar on it, and Milo  _ assumed _ it was from the small farm that he could see from the docks. He picked up the rather heavy goat kid and headed to its home. 

The small baby cheerfully baa’d as Milo carried it, and occasionally tried to nibble on Milo’s shirt. The man could only chuckle at the cheeky pokemon, petting the skiddo and putting his hand over its mouth when it tried to go for his shirt. He hadn’t really seen a skiddo up close before, so Milo was enthralled by the pokemon’s appearance, from its leafy coat, its precious little nose, to its hooves that where happy holding onto farmer’s arm. 

“Aren’t you just a precious little scamp?” Milo said, gently stroking the skiddo’s head.

“Myeeah!” 

“Oh you know it, do you? Do you know you’re not supposed to sneak out? Your parents must be worried. They’d be so sad if they can’t find you. Especially when you’re just so cute.”

“Brrya!”   


Milo arrived at the farmhouse, and knocks on the door. A young girl opens up the door, and her eyes grow wide when she recognises the skiddo Milo was holding.   
  
“Notre cabriolaine! Merci de l'avoir trouvé!” She says. Milo lets go of the skiddo, and the small goat obediently toddles to its owner.    
  
Of course, Milo barely understood what the girl was saying, old Kalosian lessons from eons past spitting up rust in Milo’s head as he tries to translate in his head, but fails. He at least knows she’s happy he found the skiddo?    
  
Milo sheepishly looks away in shame, rubbing the back of his head. “I uh, I don’t know what you just said but you’re welcome, miss.”   
  
The two, realising they couldn’t really communicate, stared at each other for a bit, before Milo slowly walked away from the situation, figuring that’s probably the best the two could do without smacking too hard into the language barrier.

However, Milo now had a new problem. He has misplaced a whole Bede. He traced his steps back to the docks, and looks around for his fae friend. This was kinda embarrassing. It’s like losing your child, and now everyone is going to find out he knows all the fuck words  _ and _ says them all on a regular basis.

Wait no they won’t. Nobody here probably understands Galarian.

_ Wait yes they will! _ If anyone remembers anything from their second language classes, it’s swear words!

Milo himself hoarded a very colourful vocabulary of Kalosian. He may have forgotten literally  _ anything _ of value, but the farmer could at least say merde, foutre, putain and salaud if pressured. Oh god Bede’s going to start swearing and then everyone is going to think poorly of Milo through association!

He needed to find Bede,  _ fast. _

Milo had a strong opinion on trains, ever since an incident he had on the first train ride he ever had, where he was sent flying when the train lurched… twice. Sure the monorail wasn’t bad, and the woman at the counter did speak enough Galarish to tell the farmer that Bede had gone this way, but it was still a train and he was obligated to dislike it. He exits the monorail building into the second half of Coumarine, to his dismay, he couldn’t see Bede anywhere.

The smell of sea salt hovered overhead as the waves crashed faintly from their distance. All around Milo was the quiet chatter in a foreign language, sounds he wasn’t used to chirped by passersby. Birds sang, even them foreign to Milo, as he starts wandering around. 

And then, Milo hears something very familiar.

“ _ Bolero not me! The fucking gogoat!” _

Ah. Sounds like Bede was yelling at his hatterene again. The moody pokemon and Bede were neigh incompatible, the two exchanging fists whenever Bolero was released from her pokeball. It was fascinating to watch them brawl. It looked almost like a dance, with how the two moved and how routine it was. From the sounds of things, Bede got himself into a pokemon battle, and had sent out Bolero. The hatterene would immediately throw a fist at Bede, who would catch it with his hand, and give the tendril a strong tug. This would cause Bolero to fall into Bede’s ready arms, where he would pull her into an almost dip in order to set up him flinging Bolero into the real action. It was very quick, and it would be very easy to miss if you weren’t aware of what would happen beforehand.

Though now Milo had to ask: Where was Bede fighting? He couldn’t hear any cheers or pokemon yelling, so Bede was likely battling a fair distance away, and was just loud. Sounded about right.  Not to forget technology existed, Milo took out his phone and gave Bede a text. Should he have done this first? Yes. Did he? ...No. Would Milo remember his phone in the future in the likely scenario where he loses Bede again? ...No…

In Milo’s defence, he didn’t use his phone very often. You didn’t really need to when most of the people you wanted to talk to were at most a thirty minute walk away and you weren’t pressed for time. He only checked his phone in the afternoon when he was in his house, seeing if her got asked by Ness about something or if the other gym leaders wanted to talk. Milo didn’t even have a rotom in his phone, thinking it’d be cruel to keep a rotom around if you don’t even bother using the device it controls too much.

Milo’s phone pinged almost immediately after he had sent his message.

_ “Where are you?” _ _  
_ _ “GYM” _

  
A picture sent itself through, the perspective showing Bede’s rotom phone had flown to the side of Bede to show the action between Bede, an old man and their pokemon.

Milo looked around. Was there a gym here? He knew that Galar was almost an oddity with how gyms were designed, more to entertain viewers than to show the prowess of upcoming challenger, so he knew the gym wouldn’t be an obnoxiously large stadium, but surely it would stand out, right?

All he could see were some normal houses and a large building that was installed into the side of a large tree. It almost looked like a jungle gym.

Oh. 

Jungle gym. Gym. Jungle gym gym. That makes sense. The man heads to the tree to see if he could find Bede.

Bede was busy in a battle. Not speaking the local language meant he had to wander around to find Milo, until he encounters the grass gym. He didn’t intend on challenging the man in charge, but everyone seemed to just prompt him to do so while he was loitering by the entrance waiting for Milo. The gym trainers literally shoved him to the top of the bullshit looking building after he fought one of them, his pokemon wiping out hers with only one hit.

So now Bede was up against Ramos. Two thirds of the battle went well, as at first the man sorely mistook the strength of Bede’s sylveon Ribbon, lending an easy knockout of Ramo’s jumpluff. The man then spoke some Kalosian at Bede, which the curly haired boy understood as ‘Oh? Tough guy eh? I know something that’ll fuck you up.’ Ramos sent out a victreebel. Bede didn’t get to gauge how strong said victreebel was, because Waltz only needed to use psychic once to send the victreebel back to Ramos, the gardevoir confused at how quick the battle went against the odd plant pokemon.

And then Ramos sent out his ace, a gogoat. Or, as Bede would refer to it from now on: the fucking gogoat. The thing was really good at hitting pokemon with its horns, sending Bolero flying with a leaf blade. Of course, that wasn’t really an accomplishment, since literally a stiff breeze could do the same, but it was annoying how Bolero couldn’t get a single attack in before she was knocked out. Bede then sent out Macarena. Big fucking mistake. The fucking gogoat must’ve known some ground type attack like earthquake or some shit, as it stomped on the ground and made Bede’s mawile afraid after her first attack. Macarena didn’t need much prompting after that to use fake tears, which made the (fucking) gogoat unsure about attacking while Bede switched Macarena with Waltz. Ramos tried to cheer his gogoat back into fighting, but the emotional damage had been done, and after a strong psychic from Waltz, the fucking gogoat knelt in defeat.

The onlookers cheered Bede’s victory, and Ramos approached the fellow gym leader, speaking more Kalosian at Bede. The man hands Bede his gym’s badge in honour of the curly haired boy’s victory. Bede held it in his hand, before saying a plain, unsure “thanks?”   
  
The old man nodded, before turning to his trainers, and was probably doing the stock standard ‘and that’s how a  _ real _ battle goes.’ Bede heard Milo say bullshit like that a lot.

The fairy type gym leader looks at the badge he didn’t intend on earning, when he jumps at the sensation of a hand on his shoulder and a presence behind him.

“Oh is that  _ Ramos _ ?”   
“Fucking hell Milo, you nearly gave me a fucking heart attack. Where the fuck were you?”   
“I was helping a skiddo go back to its farm. But you’re over here battling Ramos?”   
“What, you make it sound like a big deal.”   
“It is! Well, for me at least. He’s been a role model for me ever since I was a kid.” Milo swayed a bit with excitement, before taking out a pokeball. “You don’t think he’d mind if I challenge him as well, do you?”   
Bede shrugs. “The worst he can do is speak Kalosian at you, go for it.”


	7. Badlands and Beyond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good lord this chapter just _killed_ my mojo. Which is confusing as fuck because its just cute interactions and it wasn't even writing it that killed my enthusiasm just having to type it up. Anyway, now this chapter is done, maybe I can get to the rest of the chapters I've written.

The two boys, now both the proud owners of the plant badge, head through a gate. It was certainly the oddest thing to go tourist mode about, but the small structure _fascinated_ the boys.

“So they just… _have_ these little buildings between towns and routes?” Bede says, touching the stoney walls.

Milo was focusing on a map that had been placed on one wall, but then his attention fluttered, focusing on the benches, and then the little bin, and then the small potted plants that had been placed in the structure to make the place feel more cheery. For Milo, it certainly worked.

“Seems like it,” Milo responds to Bede,” If I recall, they’re supposed to limit access to trainers during some times during the year when the conditions are bad or if certain pokemon have been seen in the area and need to be protected. Plus it's for trainers to rest and get patched up if needed.”

"That's so crazy," Bede remarked as he took out his phone and took a picture of the gate, angling it just so that the help desk on one side of the room was on one side of the frame, while most of the frame focussed on the benches and the map of Kalos. He then flipped through contacts to find Marnie's, and sent the picture to her. 

" _Marnie look at this weird as fuck gate building they have in Kalos._ "

The woman at the help desk looked at the two tourists, as she searched her computer. Normally tourists don’t bother with gates, as they usually just dash into the routes looking for whatever pokemon they want or flying immediately to their destination. However, these two were happily chirping about what seemed like just the gate itself. Have they never seen a gate before? Why on earth are they making it a big deal?

At least the woman could recognise the two spoke Galarish. Perhaps she should help them? At least with the basic stuff.

"Uh." Promising start. "Thhis way to…" The lady checked the pronunciation guide again to make sure she could say the next part. She could feel the two men's eyes staring into her, "route 14."

She was rather proud of herself, given all she could really remember from Galarish lessons in school were swear words. However, she may have made a mistake trying to speak to the tourists, as they now beelined to her, wanting actual help. They attacked her, viciously speaking Galarish with no mercy.

"Oh, you speak Galarish? Thank fuck! How long is the walk to Lumiose?"

"What about the route? Is there anything we should keep an eye out for?"

"Any particular annoying pokemon?"

The woman stared blankly at the two, before offering an apologetic look. 

"I… do not… Galarish?" She says, struggling to recall vocabulary. Luckily, the message got through to the two, and they looked disappointed.

"...sorry'" she says.

“It’s fine.” Milo turned to Bede, “Let’s go.”  
  
“Right with you.”

  
  
The two head out of the gate and start walking down the path. There was a set of stairs that climbed down the cliff face the two were standing on, and from here, the two gym leaders could see what lay before them on route 14. The land was a perfectly flat plateau, barren of greenery and instead a dark sandy colour. The sun beat down on the dry sand and the wind felt cool brushing past the boys’ faces, but it was evident that the same wind kicked up sand with ease, creating small dust clouds in its wake.

“Ah,” Bede said, “badlands.” He looks to Milo, who had taken off his bag and was searching inside for something. He pulls out a small sunhat as well as a scarf, that he wrapped around his face. That reminded Bede to do the same.

“What do you think, it’s going to be as bad as Dusty Bowl?” Milo said, as he adjusted his hat, angling it to block the sun that was rudely targeting his left cheek. It felt wrong not having his large sunhat, but this was what could fit in his bag easily.

Bede rolls his eyes, “can’t be as bad as Dusty Bowl. Had to camp there overnight. Had far too much sand in my arse afterwards.”  
“I find wearing clothing helps.”  
“Pplplplthplpth!” Bede said in response, sticking his tongue out at the farmer. He covers his head with a hoodie and wraps the rest of the garment around him to act as a scarf. 

The journey through the barren stretch of land was uneventful. Sure, a trapinch thought it was pretty slick by popping out of the ground and trapping Bede in the hole it dug, but Milo sending out his pokemon was enough to scare it off.

The two arrive at the other gate rather quickly, the sun only starting to set. Milo and Bede flopped themselves on the benches, as the helpdesk person just smiled at the two.

Milo wiped the sweat on his face, as he relished in the ice cold air conditioning bliss. He hadn’t realised how hot the sun had been until now.

“That’s another thing these gates’re prolly for,” Milo said, continuing a conversation that ended a few hours ago,” Making sure you don’t melt.”

“I’ll agree to that,” the boy says, checking his phone. Marnie had responded to his text, and sent a photo herself.

“ _Yooo not as wild as the ones in Unova, they have_ **_screens_ ** _in em!_ ” 

The photo attached was a selfie of Piers, probably from when he was in Unova for the Pokemon World Tournament. Behind the tired, zigzagoon-nest-for-hair singer, was a digital bulletin board flashing some news of a swarm, and a screen underneath it with a photo currently displayed on it.

Bede nudges Milo, and shows him the photo Marnie sent him. “‘Pparently this is what gates in Unova look like.”  
  
“Wow that looks excessively fancy.”  
“I know right?”

Bede then pockets his phone, takes off the hoodie that was his sun protection, and turns to Milo. “How do I look? Sunburn anywhere?”  
  
Milo studied the fairy boy’s face.  
“You could probably gain by going outside some more. You’re as pale as a ghost.”  
  
Bede pouts. “No shit. Don’t get any sun in Ballonea. The only time I see it in that town is if I walk into the arena of the stadium.”  
  
Milo looks at Bede curiously. “Wait, really? I thought you were exaggerating that.”  
“Milo you’ve _been_ to Ballonea. There is no sun.”  
“I thought it was overcast that day…”  
“No it’s always like that. You get used to the glowing mushrooms being the only light quickly.”  
“Wait so then what do you do about vitamin D?  
“Wha?”  
“ _Bede_ . It’s bad not getting enough sun!”  
“Oh really? What happens if I don’t get ‘enough’ sun?”

Milo takes out his phone and does a search. “Ahem. Low amounts of vitamin D can lead to weaker bones, heart problems, fatigue, getting sick more often, feeling depressed and dying sooner.” He glances back to Bede, who was now looking a bit ‘oh shit’.

Milo grins. “Go get some sun while it’s still up.”  
  
“I’m going,” Bede says as he stands up. He then leans against a wall. “Let me get the sand out of my shoes first.”  
He then pulls one shoe off, and a generous amount of sand falls out.

Milo’s eyes widened at the amount that was now heaped onto the floor.

“Bede holy _shit_ ”

“Huh, that’s not as much as I got from Dusty Bowl. I was right about that being worse.”


	8. The City of Light

Ah, Lumiose. The capital of Kalos. The large labyrinth stood before Bede and Milo, as the last rays of the day started to sink behind the rows of buildings that adorned the city. This meant the two got to see Lumiose in all her splendor, as lights turned on around the city, and the spire that was the centre of the city became an awe inspiring glowing monolith. Streetlights glittered, and bathed the streets in their golden hues.

Even at night, the streets were busy with pedestrians and transportation. Gogoats bleated gently as they strolled past, and engines puttered as cars waited at stop signs. The people all talked, as if being in the very city made one merry.

The two gym leaders meandered, getting lost somewhere in the northern part of the city. They glanced over a large poster that caught their eyes, illustrating a battle between Clemont, the local gym leader, as well as a group of challengers, with one being featured on the actual poster.   


While it did seem interesting to the two, to either spectate or find a way to sneak in to challenge the blond bespectacled man, they had pressing problems that needed to be addressed first:

1\. Where to get something to eat.

2\. Where to sleep for the night.

The first was solved relatively easily, as the two found a supermarket that was nearing the closing time. They snatched the last hot food of the day and messily ate it as they left the store, Milo opting to carry the shopping bag that had all of the duo’s pokemon’s food inside.

Bede was furiously searching for a place to stay for the night, while trying to keep a comically large pizza slice in his mouth. He needed to find an affordable hotel that would allow for pokemon to be outside of their balls, and with luck, found a place rather close.

The name of the hotel… was in Kalosian. After some hopeless wandering in some mildly concerning dark alleys, they found the place, and headed inside. A female meowstic in a bowtie greets the gym leaders as they enter, and happily waddled beside Milo as they headed for the reception desk. She meowed at the two and headed into a room behind the reception desk, likely to get someone to help them. 

“What a sweet pokemon. It’s always fascinating seeing pokemon doing jobs without a trainer right behind them,” Milo remarks,” they act like little people.”  
“You’re right. I swear indeedee are actually just little people, especially those that work in pokecentres. It's downright scary how much they can do without needing a trainer.” Bede replied, as he rests himself on the desk’s counter, tracing the edge of the reception bell’s… the fuck is the top of this thing called? Nodule? Ding donger?? Nipple???(???)

Before Bede could decide on a name for it _or_ ring it for service, a woman happily breezes out from the back of the room. 

She threw Kalosian at the gym leaders like one would a pokeball, and just like a pokeball, what she said hit them on the head with a firm ‘donk.’ Milo offers a nervous smile, which is enough for the woman to realise these two didn’t know what she was saying.

“Do you speak… Galarish?” she said. The two men perked up quickly, relief on their faces as they found someone they can speak to finally.   
  
“Yes!” said Bede enthusiastically, “God you’re probably one of only two people in this god awful region that actually speak Galarish, you have _no_ idea how awkward it is trying to get around this place when you don’t know what anyone is saying.”   
  
The woman gives a customer service giggle at Bede’s words. “Well, you’ve got me now. I’m assuming you two want a room?”

Milo and Bede nodded. “Yes please,” Milo said, “Just a room big enough for all our pokemon.” He points to the six pokeballs on his waist, “we’ve both got full teams.”  
  
The woman glances at the two with surprise. “Oh, are you two professional trainers?”   
“Yup. We’re actually gym leaders in Galar.”   
“Wow… amazing. We have this guy that’s really good with pokemon himself.” She makes a scaling motion with her hands, showing a length the size of a page. “I have this skitty at home, about this size. I tried to train her to do tricks but all she can really do is chase her tail.” She snorts, “No clue how on earth you train other things to fight, good gosh.”   
  
“Ah, it takes time and patience.”

“And probably some psychic sense to read what’s in a pokemon’s head, most likely. Your room is number 26,” the woman said, as she handed Milo a keycard, “it’s on floor two, to the left.”  
  
“Great, thank you!” Milo said, looking at the keycard curiously, and turning to the elevator. Bede followed, and the two head to their room.

The room was great. Nice and spacious for pokemon. One small problem, though:  
  
There was only one bed.

Bede wasn’t happy. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Milo was busy releasing his pokemon. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”  
“Not that bad? Milo there’s only one bloody bed here! That bitch looked at the two of us and thought ‘Oh I know what they’re doing tonight’ like what the absolute fuck goes through peoples heads?”

Milo puts his hand on Bede’s shoulder. The fairy type trainer had worked himself up, and jumped slightly from the gesture.   
“Hey. Breathe.” Milo said. “I know this isn’t the best, and and I’m upset as well over people thinking something untoward about us travelling together, but being angry isn’t going to solve anything and is just going to make this more unpleasant.”   
  
Bede scowled as he did what his friend suggested. Take a fucking breath in, fucking hold it, and fucking exhale. It didn’t help Bede’s mood. All it did was silence him and let what boiled inside him get even hotter. Breathing was fucking stupid. It never fucking helps.

Milo could see that Bede was still angry, but they needed to take care of their pokemon.

“Release your pokemon as well, they need to eat.”  
  
Bede realises he almost forgot, and released his team.   
  
The two trainers set to work preparing the food they bought for their pokemon, dishing out bowls to the expectant eyes of the grass and fairy types. However, Foxtrot, Bede’s beloved rapidash, did not like the fact that he got beans.

Bede was holding the bowl out for the horse, as the pokemon decided to look the other way.   
“Oh Foxtrot, c’mon, you have to eat.” Bede tried to keep Foxtrot’s muzzle in place and bring the food to his mouth, but the horse just moved his face out of Bede’s hand and looked away.

“Please?”  
Horse silence.

“I’ll give you an oran berry?”   
The rapidash’s ear flicks. There was interest in the promise of berry.

Bede steals an oran berry from one of Milo’s pokemon, and jams the blue berry into the bowl of beans.Foxtrot looks at the bowl, now interested.

“Well, now you have to find the oran berry,” Bede said,”and the only way you can is through eating the beans.”  
  
Foxtrot happily puts his mouth into the bowl, causing Bede to exclaim “ _Finally!”_ Foxtrot then takes his mouth out of the bowl, making deliberate movement to show Bede that he had the oran berry he wanted and had not eaten any beans in the process. His eyes showed horse-y defiance as he eats the berry and then walks away from Bede holding the bowl of beans.

Bede took in a sharp breath, and hissed out an annoyed “ _FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF_ ** _uck_ **” 

Milo chuckled at the interaction.

Once feeding was done and the pokemon got some time to settle down to rest while the trainers prepared for bed, Bede and Milo had a serious discussion.

“Alright, who is getting the bed?”  
“Bede we can share.”   
“I’m not sharing a bed. That’s weird.”   
“It’s not weird! Lambert and I shared a bed when it was just the two of us travelling.” Milo picks up a pillow. “All you do is just have someone sleep with their head on the bottom of the bed.”

“I’m not doing that. Plus, I fight in my sleep, who the fuck knows what I’d do to you.”

“Oh come on, I doubt it’s that bad, Bede. What’s the worse that can happen?”  
“Well I can shove you off the bed or punch you in the dick.”   
“Wh- no, I don’t really turn in my sleep, plus we should have our backs to each other.”   
“Yeah and I don’t keep still! Trust me, I don’t want to wake up tomorrow to find out I’ve been groping an older man.”   
“ _Bede!_ ” Milo’s face turned a hue scarlet. “Why would you say that?”   
“Because it’s true!”   
“Well then, you take the bed.”   
Bede smiles after a well earned intelectual victory. “Great. But wait, where would you sleep?”   
  


Milo answers by taking out the duvet from the closet. “I’ll just sleep on this.” 

Milo constructs his futon, and the lights turned off. Bede, allowed to be left alone with his thoughts on the roomy bed, felt like he regretted not having Milo on the bed. It was kinda a dick move to not share this, given it was far too huge for Bede to rest on. Maybe he was blowing his problems out of proportion. His only experience sharing a bed was with that redhead challenger, 155, and surely, it shouldn’t be possible for Bede to physically launch a _second_ person out of bed, right? Right. Especially because Milo likely weighed like a shittonne of bricks to begin with. 

“Hey, Milo?”  
“Yeah?”   
“You know, uh, maybe I was exaggerating the whole attack thing… do you want to come up and share the bed?”   
“Bede.”   
“Yeah?”   
“ _Hell_ no. Not after that groping comment. Go to sleep.”

“Yeah but I wouldn’t do that! “  
“I am asleep now and can’t hear you.”   
“Come on Milo the bed’s too big for just me.”   
“Snore.”   
“You just _said_ snore!”   
“Snore, I can’t hear you I’m asleep.”

“You are awake! Share the fucking bed with me!”  
“Snore. Snore, loud snore, snore.”   
“Harumph, fine! I at least offered.”   
“Snore.”   
“At least try to make your fake snoring convincing!”   
“Snore.” 

“Good night Milo.”  
“Snore. Good night.”


End file.
